


A story of regret

by Dragonmancer



Category: Furry - Fandom
Genre: Action, Blood, Cult, Fox - Freeform, Furry, Magic, wolf - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23300107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonmancer/pseuds/Dragonmancer
Summary: My First writing Request! I hope I can do more in the future, Although I'll say here any other request I'll write won't be nearly as long as this one.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Damnum never cared about his life. He couldn't remember who he was before his transformation.It didn't matter to him, now he had a simple life with a simple task. Even though he hated every part of it, he still had a purpose that gave him a reason to live.Until one day.A day that he never thought he would have to deal it.A day that changed his life, foreverA day, that gave him a new purpose in life.
Kudos: 2





	A story of regret

A Story of Regret  
By Raymora Mayven  
The light of the sun's embrace had just fallen, causing a veil of twilight overtakes the land. A dark, starless night replaces the day, moonlight reflected off the motionless lake, the relaxing water shining beautifully under its radiance. But none of that matters, not to Damnum at least.   
Watching the lake did nothing for him, he never understood why he bothers to come here every day. Nothing ever changed about the lake, day after day it stayed the same. Or maybe, it reminded him of his old life. As soon as that thought came to mind, he growled as he looked at the blue markings that ran across his fur, permanent scars that will always remind him of that blasted day. Still, at least tonight he had a reason to be out here.   
He couldn't remember anything about who he was before his transformation. The day he became Damnum, was the day where his old life faded away. The first thing he could remember was pain. Anger, furious hatred for something he didn't understand. Chained to a wall, soaked in his blood and stripped of everything-including his memories- he wore nothing but a tattered leather tunic. Surrounded by acolytes who praised him for his sacrifice. According to them, he had willingly given away his own life in order to take the ritual of ascension. They told him it was an honor, that he would serve as a harbinger for their god.   
They claimed that once he died, he would be rewarded by the god itself for his service.   
He also remembered his screams of torment as he struggled to break free from the chains that bound him to a stone pillar. He vividly recalls breaking from those chains, throwing himself at the nearest acolyte and tearing off his head with little effort. He also remembered how no one cared as he brutally slaughtered two other acolytes, their screams fresh in his head.   
But there was one more thing he remembered from that night, a single question that he still finds himself asking every waking hour.   
Why?  
At the time he had no reason to hate them, to murder them with such bloodlust. But that wasn't the only thing he failed to understand. It was then he realized he didn't know who he was, or even what he was.   
After that, he just went along with it. From that moment onward, he was known as Damnum, the Harbinger of God.  
A bunch of bullshit that turned out to be.   
He quickly learned that in no way did he willingly agree to his ascension. No one did. Instead, he kidnaped from his home, and forced to go through a horrible ritual that essentially kills the host and resurrects the body. They dismembered him, toar open his mind and filled it with lies. Then, through the use of some strange magic, put him back together. It took years for his wounds to heal, but after it was done, it looked like he was held together by some blue energy.   
The effects of the transformation were evident. Other than incredible speed and strength, he could no longer feel pain, and his emotions felt subdued-except for anger that is. He had also gained the ability to use magic.  
There was nothing to be done, while he was far stronger than the other cultists he felt no need to escape. After all, there was nothing left for him.   
Only when he heard the grim bells ring did he know the time. The wolf had not realized that he had been standing at this lake for a few hours. He knew that it had been hours, for those bells could only mean one thing. It was time for another ascension.   
A grim scowl crept upon his snout, the utter disgust he felt for the cursed event. He hated watching others befall the same fate that he had to endure, which is why he hides at the lake until it is over.   
But as he heard the bells, he felt a strange feeling build within him. At first, he didn't know what it was, it felt as if he was making a mistake. He already knew what was going on, because this wasn't like the other ascension. For today, the poor victim was brought in by none other than himself.   
He stumbled upon the poor ottercat at a field of flowers, he was ignorantly flockling through the flowers without a care in the world. At the time, Damnum didn't think much about it, he knew what would happen to him once he returned him to the temple, but that seemed of little importance. All he cared about was getting the job done, and moving on with his existence.   
Still, the wolf couldn't help but feel bad for him. Turning towards the temple, he reached a decision. With a deep breath, he started to make his way to the ritual. It was only fair, since he was the one to bring him in, he would watch as they tear all of his personality away from him.  
The temple corridors were completely devoid of life, as all the cultists were gathered at the ascension room. As he traveled through the golden hallways of the temple, he wondered why it mattered so much that he saw the consequences of his actions. Maybe he felt like it gave him some form of morals.   
It wasn't very long before he reached the chamber. The room was large, oval shaped that spanned nearly half a mile. Golden pillars spaces equally apart from each other supported the grand celining, which had a large mural painted on it, it depicted the cult's "God". The room was lightened by torches and the natural moonlight, which shined through the stained windows that laid across the walls. At the very end of the hall, was an alter.   
A foot wide and half a foot tall, made of white and gold reflecting the colors of the cult. He couldn't help but growl at the sight of it, not too long ago was he upon that alter. If anyone heard him, they didn't show it. Damnum made sure it was clear to all other cultists, that he didn't follow them for beliefs but only because he had no other purpose.   
He waited at the front of the hall, the other cultist moved to the side as he stomp through the crowd. As a harbinger, the other members treated him with respect, but he never returned the favor. Also, he had his own spot near the altar, stationed next to the High Priest himself. Upon reaching the altar, the Priest bowed and greated Damnum with a graceful blessing. The wolf responded with a snarl and took his position beside the Priest, who turned to face towards the large crowd of cultists that had amassed before them.   
The room was silent, the cultists divided themselves into two different groups each taking a side of the room standing beside the golden pillars, creating a pathway through the center of the room. They did this with little sound, it was a natural instinct for them at this point, moving together as one. Each of them was dressed in the same outfit, a white robe with golden thread outlining. Their hoods covered their heads, and wore a mask in order to conceal their snout. No matter what angle they were viewed from, they looked virtually identical to one another. Damnum knew why; when a new member joins, their tails and ears are severed. They are no longer who they once were, only what they are.   
In a way, the members of the cult had suffered a similar fate that Damnum had. While they did keep their memories unlike he had, they had essentially given up their personal identity. The people of the cult had no names, no personality or self interests. Like Damnum, they did as they were told and nothing more. But unlike Damnum, they had a choice, they chose to leave their life behind. And that made Damnum hate them even more.  
Soon, the ominous bells rang softly, like an echo in the distance. As the moon reached the top of the world, the wolf knew it was time: midnight. Then, the bells exploded into a chilling symphony of dread which filled the room. Once they reached the peak of their performance, the doors of the hall bursted open, and entered three priests, dressed in ceremonial robes, identical to the standard white gold robes, except they were purple and gold. Four acolytes followed behind them, bringing forward a prisoner. The ottercat.  
Damnum grimaced at the sight of him. He looked younger than Damnum, gray fur with a streak of brown across his eyes. The wolf forced himself to watch as they brought the ottercat down towards the altar, the poor animal kicking and screaming his entire way. Damnum wondered if he had been like that when he was in the ottercat's place. Surprising, he had managed to break free from one of the acolytes, and made a break for the door. However, without any word, the other cultists autonomously moved to intercept him, creating a wall. The ottercat cried and screamed in agony, as he frantically scratched and clawed at the first aclotye that he could reach. The creature did not stir, only standing their ground as the ottercat toar at him. In vain, he pulled off their mask, and upon seeing that laid under it, he stumbled back and fell on his back in fear.   
In all his years of being a Harbinger, Damnum had never seen anyone remove their mask. Now he knew why. At first glance, it looked like it was a dog. Or at least, at one point he was a dog. Now, stood an emotionless creature, staring at the ottercat with his pupil-less eyes. The once dog looked unnatural, almost as if they weren't even alive. Just as it was taken off, he replaced his mask and returned to the crowd, as if nothing had happened.   
Without any more fighting, the ottercat giving on his hopes of escaping, he submissively allows the acolytes regain hold of them, and push him to the altar. There he stood, standing face to face with the High Priest. He said nothing, and moved to the side to allow the other priest to pass. Quickly, they bound him to the golden table, stretching his limbs to each corner of the altar. The four acolytes joining the crowd as the priest each took a side of the altar.   
A strange feeling started building within Damnum's gut. But it wasn't like what he felt early, for this was something he felt only once before.   
From where he was standing, He had a clear view of the poor ottercat as he whimpered in fear. The wolf didn't care about him, while he did wish no one had to suffer the same fate that he had, there was no stopping faith.   
"Faith" he muttered under his breath, the word leaving a disgusting taste within his mouth. Was it really his faith to turn into an emotionless monster? What a cruel world to live in, he thought, watching him with a new interest. That's when he noticed the ottercat was looking directly at him.   
For a few moments, the wolf locked eyes with the prisoner. It was like all went still as he stared into his blue, hopeless eyes. Tears ran down his face as he whimpered but he made no more attempt to escape. He watched Damnum, not taking his eyes off him, watching him like he was some monster. At the very least, Damnum would have another Harbinger that he could relate to.   
With one last chorus, the bells stopped and the hall went silent. The crowd of cultists filled in the gap within the middle of the room, and watched the High Priest who began to speak.   
His voice was dull and emotionless, words fell from his mouth but had no effect. Not that Damnum was listening, he was lost within his own mind as he examined the victim. The words he did manage to catch were of little matter, god, passion, sacrifices and other ridiculous lies this pasture was trying to spread.   
Finally, after what felt like hours of standing-not once during this time did Damnum avert his gaze from the Ottercat- the high priest stilled his voice, and returned to his position at the head of the atler. It was time to begin the ritual of ascension.  
Damnum stood still, not knowing what to expect from the ordeal. He had managed to pull his watch away from the ottercat, keeping his attention on the priest as they started to chant. At first, nothing happened as their lifeless voice filled the room, the words a forgotten language entering the minds of everyone.   
At first, the wolf found himself confused. This was nothing like he had expected, it was almost boring. But just as Damnum raised his hindpaw to take a slight step, a wall of blue flames erupted from the ground. The flames surrounded the altar, standing directly in front of the priest who did not react from the sudden burst of fire. It stayed a few feet away from the altar, circling the prisoner with its intense heat.   
Upon seeing the deadly inferno that drew closer to him with every breath, the ottercat resumed his earlier struggle, desperately trying to free himself from the chains that held him with no avail. He whimpered and cried, screaming for help and mercy. Very soon, the other cultist joined in on the chant, creating a loud monotone voice that drowned his pleas. To the unaware, it may have sounded like a single voice.   
Standing behind the flames, Damnum heard a small whimper. He knew it couldn't have been the ottercat, as it was impossible to hear him over the sound of the cultist. He looked around to see where it had come from, when the fires reached the ottercat. It was clear when the flames made contact, for the unearthly screams of being burned alive was soon heard over the chant.   
There was another whimper, followed by what seemed to be a small growl. It was then that Damnum looked at his own snout, and saw he was baring his fangs. The dark blue fire illuminated the room, mixing with the same blue scars that covered his body.   
Looking back to the altar, he didn't see the ottercat. Instead he saw a gray furred wolf, screaming and frantically flaying his body trying to break free. First he was confused, then enraged as he realized who that wolf was. It wasn't him, but who he used to be.   
Then he snapped.   
With a howl of pure hatred and anger, Damnum swung his paws together and summoned a large, destructive orb of energy, and hurled it directly at the closest priest to him. It struck the priest directly in the back of their chest, sending them flying into the crowd and crashing into three other acolytes. A smoldering cloak was all that remained of the priest. Soon as the orb hit him, the wall of fire instantly dissipated, as the remaining three priests turned towards him, the eyes of their golden masks beaming upon the wolf.   
He didn't give them any time to react, for as soon as the spell was interrupted, he leaped towards the altar, usings his immense strength to crush the second priest's skull between his claws and incinerated the other as it tried to channel a spell. Turning from the ashes that was the priest, he met the High Priest's glance, and without so much as a second thought, he rushed towards him and toar off his head, flinging it into the ground. The sound of the mask shattering as it hit the floor echoed throughout the room.   
Truth was, Damnum didn't know why he did his next action. His only guess was he just wanted to do something out of his own choice for once. Whatever the reason was, it didn't matter to him.   
Leaving the lifeless corpse of the high priest, feeling satisfied upon hearing the cold hard thump as it hit the floor, he returned to the altar, and examined the ottercat, who watched him with equal curiosity and fear. Damnum noticed that while he did interrupt the ritual, the ottercat had suffered injuries similar to his own. Still, there were no signs of the blue markings that he wore, so there was a chance that he had disrupted the ritual in time.   
The silver chains that bound the prisoner snapped easily as he toar them from their holds. He continued to stare at the wolf, trembling with fear. Staring back, the wolf still saw him as a reflection of himself, of the fear that he had to face. In a way, he was glad he had forgotten it.   
Sounds of the cultist gathering broke him out of his trance, growling at his lack of plan. He had rushed into this without much forethought, but knew there was no going back. Without as much as a word, he lifted the ottercat from the altar, and slung him over his shoulder. Turning to face the hundred of cultists, Damnum tensed. It was time to see the full power of his abilities.   
With a mighty leap, he crashes into the middle of the cultist, while unarmed and at a clear disadvantage, they move as one, throwing punches and kicks in unison. Whipping his tail around, he managed to knock five of them off balance, they stumbled and brought down another cultist behind them. Whirling back around, he summoned another blast of energy and obliterated four acolytes standing before him.   
The intense flames flew from the wolf, magical embers singing the fur of the ottercat, who tensed upon impact and dug his claws into the wolf's hide. Damnum cursed under his breath, he would have to be more careful with his magic; while he is immune to the effects of his own magic, the ottercat was still vulnerable to its might. Without the full force of his magic, nor the use of his left arm as that is where he held the ottercat, he wondered if he would be strong enough to fight his way out of the temple.  
Across the hall, the windows start to shatter as bodies are sent through them. A focused strike launches a group of cultists into the wall, and a follow-up attack takes out another six. After disintegrating another twelve, Damnum looked up to see that he had done little work. There were still hundreds, if not a thousand acolytes blocking his escape, and while he didn't tire he also knew neither would they. Unless something changes, this battle will only end once one side is dead. Unfortunately for Damnum, there was only one of him, and a near endless amount of them.   
Which means his only option was to escape.   
Adjusting his hold on the ottercat, he locates the exit of the hall, and begins his advance. It took only a moment for the cultist to realize his intentions, moving away from him and forming a wall similar to how they blocked the earlier escape attempt. With another growl, he conjures another orb of magic, and flings it towards the wall. This time however, the cultist deflected his attack with a spell of their own, the chanting of all the voices forming together into one voice.   
He halted his charge, and fired a quick barrage of magic. The Cultist repelled his attack with ease, but made no moves to counter. They seemed content with keeping their Harbinger in place. Searching his sorry excuse for a mind, Damnum couldn't find a solution except for the obvious, foolhardy answer. Glancing back at the creature that he still held across his shoulder. It would appear he had passed out which was fine by Damnum, as he didn't have to hear his consistent whimpers.   
Releasing a howl that would tear at the heart of mortals-as expected the cultists were completely unaffected- and nearly doubled his speed. The golden hall flashing into a blur within his eyes, he charged shoulder first directly at the cultist.   
Magical wall or not, Damnum smashed his way through the center of the crowd, the sounds of shattering masks and cracking bones fell on the wolf's ears while he continued his onslaught. He must have cut down nearly a hundred of them by now, but there was no end to this battle in sight. Stomping his foot down, he releases another howl as the space behinds him fills with more cultists.   
Now he was nearly drowning within a sea of cultists, his magical powers were not enough to create a path for long enough. He knew they were tearing his fur and scratching at his hide. Nevertheless, while he didn't feel pain, his mortal body could only take so much damage before it gave out. At the current rate things were going, he would not make it any farther.   
Shimmers of broken glass and shattered masks along with the golden white corpse soon disappeared behind the storm of the cult. In unison, they kicked at his feet and attacked his back, knocking him unbalanced. Damnum stumbled to the floor, the animal on his shoulders hitting the ground as well. Within the next few seconds, they started to pile on top of him, restraining him underneath the might of their combined weight.  
Struggling as much as he could, Damnum knew there was no way he could escape his immediate doom. If he was afraid, he refused to show it nor accept it.   
At the very least, he would die with purpose.   
Then a dark blue light engulfed the hall, sending a wave of energy so strong, it sent every single cultist against the wall. They made no sound verbal on impact, except for the wall that cracked and splintered.   
Damnum, on the other hand, was otherwise unaffected. He looked around for the source of the blast, it couldn't have been him, and soon found the ottercat he once carried slumped face first on the ground. It would be long before the cultists recovered, with some even starting to stir. Setting the question aside, the wolf retrieved the fallen ottercat and resumed his sprint towards the door, burning down any cultist that stood in his way.   
The golden sealed door fell apart as he leaped through it, closing his eyes to avoid the dust from hindering his vision. Like before, the halls were empty.   
Not taking a moment to stop, Damnum runs faster than he has ever before, bolting out of the temple in a flash of gray and blue. He wasn't going to stop until he was sure he was far enough from the temple.   
After hours of running, through the woodlands that stood in front of the temple, he finally slowed his pace to a stop. With a heavy sigh, he slumps to his knees, and dumps the ottercat upon the dirt.   
He didn't know what to think, so much happened in such a little time. Even though he was glad to leave that hellish place behind, he wished he had burned the entire thing to the ground, but knew it would've been foolish to try. Still, he wondered why he saved the ottercat's life.   
If it had been him escaping alone, it wouldn't have mattered how many enemies he had to face. Yet, he couldn't find a reason as to why he saved their life. Whatever the reason, what's done has been done.   
But when he looked to see if the prisoner had even survived the flight, he cursed and roared in anger. For while the ottercat was alive, his hair and eyes have turned blue, as similar glowing scars shone from his body.   
Damnum was infuriated with himself, if only he didn't take so long to react. Still, there was some hope. He didn't have as many marks as Damnum bore, and it looks like he had yet to be dismembered like the wolf had been. Which means, although he didn't stop the entire ritual, he still prevented the full ascension for him- what that means for the ottercat he did not know.   
Taking his eyes off the ottercat, he looked to the world that loomed before him. He was free, but to do what he wondered. Without a clear directive, he could do anything he wanted. After a few moments, he turned back to the ottercat. He was calm, unconscious but still sleeping peacefully. Damnum noticed how similar the two looked, especially with the blue markings. At that moment, he knew his purpose.   
"I won't let anyone hurt you. Brother"


End file.
